Avoiding the Real Dragon
by Millia
Summary: Inspired randomness from HBP. Involving Romilda, Ginny, and general cattyness. HG.


**Avoiding the Real Dragon**

by **Millia**

**Summary:** Inspired randomness from HBP. Involving Romilda, Ginny, and general cattyness.

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Ginny Weasley grew up in a house surrounded by boisterous, overly-enthusiastic brothers. At family dinners, hair would catch on fire, food would fly back and forth between the twins (though they would always regret it later), and massive games of dares took place with startling, violent consequences (George currently holding the title of Champion and the scar never quite going away). That is to say, she was not afraid of much. She was also deadly honest, if only sometimes to herself, and however much it irked her, she had to admit that right now something was scary enough to cause _her_ (Ginny Weasley!) to duck around corners to avoid it.

Catching her breath and cursing when she realized she had abandoned her bag in the corridor she had quickly evacuated, Ginny wondered how long she would have to wait.

Yes, that was right—Ginny Weasley, survivor of the Burrow and the Weasley family, Chaser and Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, girlfriend to one Harry Potter, was avoiding Romilda Vane like the plague.

Ginny had been the topic of gossip for a while now, but she had happily ignored it, sitting next to Harry at dinner and dragging him into unoccupied classrooms between classes. But Romilda still frightened her enough to cause the otherwise brave and level-headed Weasley girl to dart around corners like a rabbit. And as long as no one was around to witness it, Ginny was quite content to be a rabbit.

Summoning all her courage and forcing her knees to stop shaking, Ginny timidly peeked from around the corner. She let out a huge sigh of relief, seeing the once crowded corridor now bereft of students—lunch had just started. Still somewhat wary, Ginny crept out, hurried to her bag, and without further ado ran all the way to Gryffindor Tower and into the fifth-year girls' dormitory. Chances were that Romilda wouldn't be desperate enough to seek Ginny out from where she was (and at the moment she was hidden under her bedcovers with the bed hangings drawn), but Ginny was perfectly willing to skip a meal to avoid the girl—lately, wherever Ginny had gone, there Romilda was.

However much Ginny deluded herself into thinking that she would just show the pathetic twit the Bat Bogey Hex—after all, she had absolutely no inhibitions when it came to Malfoy, Smith, all of her brothers, and numerous other recipients of her rage—she still knew that while Romilda hated her right now, she would never want a Romilda completely bent upon her destruction.

But as explained before, Ginny was a Weasley, and to ignore the ever-increasing growls of a stomach was perilously close to unforgivable. Groaning, Ginny conceded to the authority of her appetite, and timidly left her dorm.

Faut-pas Number One.

"I was looking for you, Ginny."

Not many people have mastered the art of friendly disgust like Romilda. Her voice dripping with fake sincerity, but leagues beyond sarcasm, was like coming home to a warm fire and discovering it was really your funeral pyre.

"Oh, were you, Romilda?" Ginny mumbled nonchalantly, examining her fingernails—which could have done with another coat of polish—and trying to avoid the younger girl's gaze.

Romilda adjusted her robes slightly (Ginny couldn't help noticing her nails were rather perfect) and studied her from somewhat narrowed eyes.

"Have you been avoiding me?"

Ginny scoffed, throwing her (rather messy) hair over her shoulder. "I? Avoid you? What ever gave you that idea?" She strove to make her voice sickeningly sweet, hoping that it had the same affect that holy water did on vampires.

"I saw you dart around a corner after class today."

Ahem. Well. She supposed an excuse about needing a potion because of possible death from fumes in the Potions dungeon wouldn't work too well. Romilda was unfortunately too smart for Ginny's normal excuses. If she didn't hate the girl so much, she might have found her amusing. As it was, her stomach was feeding upon itself and—blast it—she already missed her favorite bespectacled boy and wanted to find him.

"Oh, was that you?" she opted for instead. "I must have mistaken you for Mrs. Norris." Ok, whoops, bad call.

Faut-pas Number Two: directly insult Romilda to her face.

The slightest flicker across Romilda's face was the equivalent of a slap from any other girl. But instead, the younger Gryffindor (she certainly didn't lack courage, Ginny grudgingly acknowledged) ignored it.

"So is it true?"

"Er… wha-?" Ginny was sure the blank, vacant look wasn't a flattering one for her. In her defence however, if Romilda were asking her to confirm a rumour, Ginny wouldn't even know where to begin. Which one? That Harry was only dating her because he was under the Imperius curse? That Ginny was an agent of You-Know-Who?

"Does Harry have a tattoo of a hippogriff on his chest?"

Ginny blinked. Waited. Romilda didn't vanish in a puff of smoke or retract her ridiculous question, so Ginny blinked again.

Honestly. Didn't the girl have anything else with which to occupy herself? Surely she was smart enough to ponder over more meaningful questions. For a brief, frightening moment, Ginny actually pitied the abominable creature.

"Er, what kind of question is that?" to her horror, Ginny felt herself blushing, not able to avoid thinking of ways she could find out the exact answer to that question. Only around Romilda could this happen to her. Well, maybe around Harry. And the twins every time they reminded her about that stupid dare she did when she was eight.

"All the girls want to know, and you, seeing as you're his … girlfriend … would know, right?"

Ginny bristled. First of all, she most certainly _was_ Harry Potter's girlfriend, and she didn't need Romilda to put that tone of doubt into it! _Romilda_ was nothing but an embarrassment to Harry. And _then_ Romilda had the nerve to run her eyes up and down Ginny, in a way that practically _screamed_ "harlot."

Avoiding the desire to whip out her wand, Ginny somehow found the strength in her to smirk at the infuriating girl in front of her and stare down her nose using her slight advantage of height.

"Actually, last time I checked, it was a Hungarian Horntail." She gave Romilda a very uncharacteristic giggle, but one that she consistently heard among Romilda's friends when they gathered in the common room to discuss whatever it was they discussed (which now apparently was Harry's chest, Ginny realized murderously).

Romilda, perfect Romilda, stared at Ginny for a split second, her mouth slightly gaping (gaping!), but Ginny gave her no chance to reply. She simply strode past her, intent on quieting her abnormally large stomach before its rumbling brought down Howarts castle itself.

Trying not to grin too smugly, Ginny was all too aware that Romilda would be an incessant pain for the rest of her years. But, catching sight of a familiar mess of hair coming in through the portrait hole, Ginny found that at the moment she didn't care at all.

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**A/N**: Random plot-bunny that I think I originally started for some prompt of some kind. I just stumbled across it today and decided to finish it. I apologize for poor editing; my feeble excuse is finals...


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